how about go?
by Erin Ellis
Summary: Sai never had a chance to say it, but sometimes it's okay to run from challenges. So, Hikaru doesn't realize this until its way too late... (of course! it's funnier that way) Rated for Ogata, and that should explain everything. (2/6)
1. how about ramen?

Warnings..? Hell, why not. All you really need to know is that Ogata is one sketch mutha... but you probably already knew that. Lightheartedly disturbing, because it's more fun that way. Also, I'm playing kinda fast and loose with facts, characterization, and continuity, so, uh.. yeah. _Hikaru no Go_ belongs to Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, and a bunch of other people who aren't me. Here we go...

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Shindou Hikaru had been playing go, and it had felt pretty damned good. That was, of course, what he did, play go. He was a go professional, after all. And sure, it was a great way to get some extra cash (Hikaru remembered the first time he ever bought something completely on his own; it was a raunchy poster purchased mainly because Mom couldn't complain about it one bit), but he played for the love of the game. For a time, he had quit, and he'd missed it. He missed _him_, of course, but it turned out it wasn't an either-or -- Sai or go -- choice. He could enjoy both. And that was good. Because he liked go. And that's probably what got him into trouble.

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**how about go? : the ogata fic-sation**  
by erin ellis  
**first match : ego wrapping**, or, **don't trust men in white suits**

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Once Hikaru had asked Waya if he had as many people calling out random and oft-times semi-violent challenges to go games as Hikaru seemed to. The older teen didn't seem to have any idea what he was talking about, but was quick to assert that he could kick anyone's ass in go any day of the week, so bring those challenges right on. Honestly, Hikaru didn't have any issues with that; he certainly wasn't asking for everybody and their little brother to make him play go out of some sort of revenge or obsession or need to save their elderly grandfather's favorite plate or whatever. Too bad Waya conveniently was never around to recieve when said challenges were brought on.

Like today. Waya and he _had_ played a match today, but the brunet had stalked downstairs after refusing to eat ramen again for lunch. Therefore, Hikaru was alone in the hallway of the go institute when he was suddenly slammed against the wall. "Shindou!" a voice rumbled.

Hikaru winced, blinked a few times to clear his now-pounding head, and looked into a familiar be-glassed face. "Ogata... You could have just tapped me on the shoulder." Seemed that nowadays he ended up more afternoons being pinned to walls by the high-level pro. It was starting not to seem so much like coincidence.

The man was set and driven. "I want to play--"

Hikaru's face fell. "Sai... Sai's gone."

Ogata let out a grunt. "Then I want a game with you. Now."

"With-- with me?" Hikaru's head snapped up at that. Ogata had never expressed interest in him as a player himself; just as a rival to Touya, or as a friend of Sai. It was flattering. It was... suspicious. "What do you want with me?" the teen said, green eyes narrowing. "Sai's gone. I really don't know where he is, so don't start anything in the hopes you'll get a game with him later, 'cause you won't." Hikaru found he sounded a bit more deflated than fierce at this point.

"Understood. And as I said: I don't want to play with Sai. I want to play with you." Hikaru was speared by the man's gaze again-- his amber eyes clouded with unidentifiable emotion. Suddenly Hikaru hoped that someone would come by and save him. Ogata's arms were becoming claustrophobic.

"Um... okay... we can play together if you want." Anything to get out of here. Something about Ogata creeped him out. Maybe it was the white suit. Always made Hikaru think of the Colonel Sanders statues outside the KFC. "Oh, but I have to go now. Teaching demonstrator eventy thing. You know." He gave what he hoped was an apologetic look.

"Of course," Ogata nodded, pushing up his glasses. Hikaru took advantage of the opportunity to step away from the wall. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Mom's out of town, so I have to make sure her dramas tape."

The man nodded. "Program your VCR and get ready. I'll be there at six."

Hikaru frowned. "Well..."

"I'll feed you ramen."

"Cup noodles?" he challenged.

"The fancy place near the high school with the gyoza."

"Then it's a date!" Hikaru really wasn't sure why he'd said that exact turn of phrase. Shaking off the strange feeling, he smiled, trotting off to the elevator. Maybe he could still catch up with Waya.

"I'll be looking forward to it." Ogata's thin smile was decidedly... weird. But so was Ogata, so it probably worked out.

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Hikaru scowled at his reflection in the mirror, at the closet, at the situation in general. He didn't know what to wear. Seemed silly, didn't it? What a womanish problem. But... his usual jeans were too casual-- he had to take the other pro seriously. On the other hand, this was also a guy he'd seen drunk off his ass, mumbling about go. He wasn't about to break out a tie or anything. Man, Sai would've been able to give him advice... Sure, he kinda looked like a woman, and his clothes resembled a dress a lot more than anything Hikaru would be caught dead wearing by choice, but still, he could get an honest opinion of how he looked. Hell, for that matter, he could probably call Mom. 'Yeah Mom, what's the best outfit for going out with some older guy to the fancy ramen place for a private dinner before going back to his place for a couple games of go?'

...Hmm, maybe calling Mom wasn't such a good idea after all. It did sound so awfully sketch when put it like that. Did that mean it actually _was_ 'awfully sketch'? Hikaru decided not to think about that. This ramen place was supposed to be so good; Kurata had been raving about it every time he saw him and completely refused to treat him, cheap bastard.

Sighing, he decided on a niceish pair of khakis (only a really small stain) and a red short-sleeved camp shirt unbuttoned over a long-sleeved baseball shirt emblazoned with (like most of his clothing) the number five. Sort of a Waya look, sans camouflage. Grabbing a belt and his wallet, he ran downstairs just as Ogata drove up, meeting him at the street.

"Um, hey," the teen said, precluding Ogata from getting out of the car. Geez, what would the neighbors say if they saw Col. Sanders taking him away? "Um... uh..."

"Get in the car," he said, rolling up the dark tinted windows. The passenger-side door opened, and Hikaru got in and drove away. Then somebody kneed him in the back of his chair.

"Touya?!" Hikaru exclaimed. Sitting placidly in the back seat was Touya Akira. Of all the people he didn't want to see... Wearing a big frown, Hikaru twisted around in the seat, gesturing widely and nearly taking Ogata's eye out. "What're _you_ doing here?!"

"Shindou," he nodded. "My father regularly takes me to practice with Ogata-san. It's not my fault that you've decided to... practice... at the same time."

Oh, that smug little bastard, and his little girly smirk and his big 'I'm too good for you' attitude. "No way, Touya, I was so totally invited to come at just this time, and if you think I'm gonna be intimidated by you then you're in for a super big surprise. Hell, I'll play you both at the same time and still beat you!"

"Please," the dark-haired boy laughed derisively. "As if you had any--"

"Boys, boys." Ogata's low voice was enough to silence both teens. "Let's not squabble. There will be enough time for everyone to play. Everyone."

Hikaru and Touya both held their tongues after that, though for decidedly different reasons.

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Touya Akira sneaked a glance at his bleached-haired companion again, before flickering back to his meal. Shindou was so upbeat and enthusiastic... to be honest, he'd never expected to meet him like this. Ogata had told him to prepare for a third player tonight, but he'd never imagined it would be Shindou. Was he prepared for tonight's game? Could he possibly be? Should he, Akira himself, offer to help..?

Then for the fifth time Shindou was a little too enthusiastic with his ramen slurping, and while completely missing any of his own clothing, spattered soup into Akira's eye. As he reached for another napkin, Akira could swear he saw a dirty grin flash across the other teen's face.

Oh, it was on, now. He caught eyes with Ogata, and the older pro smiled.

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Hikaru felt full and complacent, smiling a bit as they walked to Ogata's apartment. The food was so good! Since Ogata said he was paying, Hikaru had had two huge bowls of ramen, plus a giant order of gyoza. Touya had spent the whole meal giving him 'Mom' looks, but Hikaru figured it was _his_ day so he could eat as much as he damned well pleased. ...Unfortunately, he probably should've stopped at the eighth dumpling, since he felt... just... tired. And really full. Whatever. It was good and free. "I'm stuffed! Thanks. What now?"

"Go," Touya and Ogata said simultaneously.

"In stereo," Hikaru said, finding this amusing. Whoa, he was getting kinda punchy. "Okay, well let's get this party over with. I'm kinda wiped."

Ogata looked almost disappointed. "I expected you'd be a more... energetic player."

"I am," he boasted immediately. "But we aren't playing right now. So let's go go igo!" His cheerful grin at his corny pun faltered just a bit at the other two men's blank looks. "Um... who plays first?"

"First? You. And I." Ogata unlocked the door, letting them into his apartment. It was dark, even after he'd turned on the light, and seemed to consist of mainly shelves packed with videotapes, books, and DVDs, and a large, old computer hooked to broadband.

"Whoa, you've got Internet in here?" Hikaru exclaimed, bounding to the monitor.

"Don't touch the computer," the redhead said flatly.

Hikaru pouted, but did as told. Behind the computer were fusuma screens that opened to another dark room with a bed and go board. The bed was lumpy and had a hand sticking out. "Uh--"

"Don't ask," Touya advised, pushing him to a cushion in front of the go board. It was the farthest from the door, Hikaru noted with a funny feeling in his stomach. Maybe it was gas.

"May I go to the bathroom?" he asked.

"It's the door." Sure enough, he looked, and there was only one door in the apartment. So he went. It-- well, it _was_ gas; he really shouldn't have had that second bowl, but he listened through the door and caught the words 'go', 'ready', 'chicken', and 'Shindou'. That could mean any number of things, but having hung out with the likes of Kaga and Mitani enough to know when to trust a feeling in your gut that may or may not be gas, he refused the huge can of beer he was offered upon leaving the toilet, even after Touya accepted and downed his quickly. (Hikaru did however accept the second can offered; it was Ebisu and that stuff was really expensive, so it'd be a waste not to.)

So they played, with Touya eyeing him unnervingly and Ogata calmly knocking back Ebisu... it was really one of the oddest go experiences Hikaru had ever... er... experienced. He was having troubles, his mind shouldn't be wandering like this, but he couldn't seem to get into the game. Something about it was wrong. Ogata was playing oddly... like a beginner. Instead of working at a framework, the big picture of the board, he was nickling and diming, seemingly more interested in taking Hikaru's stones than marking off territory. It wasn't right-- by all accounts, Hikaru was looking to win this game. "Ogata-san... are you drunk?"

The man frowned. "Off of this?" He gestured to his pile of cans in the corner. "Don't make me laugh."

"Then why am I winning? You're playing oddly. Why?"

Ogata pushed up his glasses, peering at him like he'd been waiting for Hikaru to ask the question. "How would you like to play a slightly different game? Something a little more... challenging?"

The teen's brow furrowed, a hand uneasily running through blonde bangs. That feeling in his stomach was coming back. "Like one color go?"

"Somewhat." He placed a stone, capturing another of Hikaru's stones. "Take off your shirt."

"Eh~?!" He looked to Touya for confirmation, but just got a slight shake of his head."

"It's strip go. Not only must you capture territory, but you must mind the amount of stones you sacrifice, or else..." His voice trailed, and his eyes flickered to the offending camp shirt. Ogata's smirk deepened as he spoke again, tones of mirth and sarcasm thick. "It's a very... intense game. Maybe you aren't up to the challenge?"

"I can do it," the teen snapped automatically, wrenching off his overshirt and tossing it to the floor. Oh... he really had to watch those defense mechanisms.

"Excellent." And now Hikaru was certain of why he shuddered at Ogata's grin.

  


tbc.

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I think it's episode 56 or so; Hikaru's gone to convince Touya Kouyo that he doesn't want to retire and Ogata comes up and pins him against the wall, gets all up in his face. That added to the clips of him leaving some strange woman's house and the fact that he's always sitting in his house in the dark in front of the computer and an (admittedly out of context) then-spoiler about how the drunken Ogata lures an oblivious Hikaru to his room for go while someone else is passed out in the corner, and... Well, we have what's in front of you today. Now I know that what actually happened in ep. 59 (or so) was not quite the kind of game that I had initially imagined, but that's what fanfic is for, eh?

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next:

The aftermath. Akira and Hikaru have a talk that goes... not so well. Waya has a question. Ogata has a nap. Don't miss it.


	2. how about strip go?

Dedication: A big 3-9 to the proud, the few, the folks who took the time to press that review button and let me know that they read the story even if it was crap. So, enjoy this chapter. It's got gratuitous fan-service! ...or gratuitous cursing. One of the two.

Definition: uh... 3 = san and 9 = kyuu and if you say it together you understand, right?

Disclaimers: Still no characterization. Still not mine. And no strip go, either. ...Wait, come back...

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Ogata Seiji snored loudly. One might say, so loudly that it was a wonder the neighbors didn't complain. Of course, one might counter that the neighbors rightly knew who to be wary of, and had learned from former mistakes. Whatever the reason, no one took any notice when window-rattling snores began to rumble from the tiny apartment, and certainly no one admitted to seeing two young men sneak out the door. Though, if someone _had_ seen them, they probably wouldn't have been very surprised.

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**how about go? : the ogata fic-sation**  
by erin ellis  
**second match : know your chicken**, or, **never anger a touya**

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There wasn't much Shindou Hikaru needed to be happy. A warm bath, a soft bed, the last few hours of his life erased from his memory... Just the simple things. But for the immediate present, he would settle for knowing--

"Shindou, just where are you going anyway?"

The bleached-blond shot a look at his taller companion, who was walking beside him all too not scarred for life. After strip go at Ogata's and its various follow-up activities whose existence he was trying hard to deny, after sneaking past the surprisingly light-sleeping drunken go player to escape, after walking and walking with no signs of getting closer to a public phone much less a train station, his tolerance for snippy remarks from Touya Akira was getting dangerously low. "Do you have a problem with the way I'm getting us to the station, Touya?" he said, clenching and unclenching his fists.

The teen's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh, is _that_ what you were doing? I thought you were taking me out for a leisurely stroll. We've been walking for fifteen minutes, Shindou. _Fifteen_. There is virtually no place in downtown Tokyo where you can walk fifteen minutes and not find a train station. --I suppose," he amended, "unless you're a very special type of idiot. Why don't you just give in and ask me where to go?"

No. Even the most rational of people would find this too much to take. "Why don't _you_ take your know-it-all attitude and stick it in your ear, asshat? I'm not asking you for anything other than to leave me the hell alone! I mean, holy fucking shit, tonight instead of sitting at home and watching my cartoons, I've been involved in the kind of things wet dreams are made of-- except instead of attractive people being involved, it was you and sketch-master _Ogata_, of all people!" Hikaru clutched at his head, looking searchingly to the heavens. "God, I had to... with you-- I-- you almost--" Here he cut off, beet red and desperately avoiding the piercing aqua gaze. "I-- I mean, I had to see Ogata without any pants," he finished eventually, quickly working back up to his previous level of righteous indignance. "That's an image I have to live with for the rest of my life, and there is a strong possibility I may never sleep again."

"You're overreacting, Shind--"

"Shut up!" he shouted over him, peripherally aware that he was probably right. "Just shut up! I am _not_ overreacting, I am freaking the hell out like a normal person, and you should be too! Would it kill you to show some true emotion? Why in the holy hell won't you get off your high horse and quit treating this like it's your typical Wednesday night?!"

"It _is_ my typical Wednesday n--" Touya's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. A brief hesitation -- or was it a breath? -- and the teen continued, voice assured. "I always play with Ogata-san, or another pro, at about this time."

"Yeah, but play with them like _this_?" Hikaru's challenging expression began to fade into shocked disbelief as Touya turned away, but did not deny his words. "Touya... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that sometimes to win you have to use your assets. ...All of them. To be the best, you have to play the right games against the right people. I'm saying, sometimes you have to... help with scheduling." He started walking down the street.

A beat. "...You whore yourself to the go community?!"

"Of course not," Touya snapped, eyes flashing. "Only people who can advance my game. If it was just anyone, I'd be trapped with Ichikawa-san and Kitajima-san for the rest of my life. Besides--"

Hikaru was horrified. "So not only are you selling your body for money, you're doing it with nasty old guys?!"

"Not selling for money, just for go games-- Hey, it's not _selling_ at all! Besides, it's not like we--"

"Ew!" he cried, pressing his hands to his ears. "So, tonight was just business as usual? Holy pederasty, Touya! So that's why you hang out with the old guys all the time? And here I thought you just didn't have any friends."

Touya became very silent at that, but Hikaru didn't notice, mind whirling. It was all too much... Goody-two-shoes Touya Akira selling himself for training, possibly every professional go player he knew involved in some sort of disturbing underaged sex scandal... Sai never prepared him for anything like this! "Geez, Touya! I can't believe you do this and your _dad_ encourages it! And here I was thinking Touya Kouyo was a great man."

Then Hikaru was in some sort of headlock, pressed tight against Touya's chest. "My father has _nothing_ to do with how I choose to spend my time, and how dare you imply otherwise. Don't you _ever_ say anything bad about my father."

Now, Hikaru certainly wasn't any judo master, but he figured he'd watched enough wrestling matches to throw some pretty boy around. So he shifted his weight, throwing a knee into the space behind Touya's knee so it would buckle, and sending them both flying. Touya released him on impact with the ground, and Hikaru covered his body so he couldn't get away, straddling him and rearing back to punch that pretty face into a smear on the pavement. Beating the crap out of Touya really would help him to relieve stress, and the beginnings of a smile toyed at his lips.

A jumble of emotions flickered across Touya's face, ending with challenge. "You want a repeat performance of earlier?" he said, something more than mocking in his voice.

Against his will, heat flared across Hikaru's face.

"Or actually, maybe it should be more like this." Before Hikaru knew it, he was lying flat on his back, arms pinned above his head, seeing stars as Touya had been none-too-gentle while flopping them over (who knew the guy could move so fast?), the other lying close enough that dark hairs were trailing onto Hikaru's shoulders and he could feel the stamina ramen with extra garlic-breath warm and harsh against his face. "You didn't _really_ dislike our games tonight, did you."

"Get-- off--" Hikaru grunted, voice doing odd things with his rival/greatest enemy not prone to wearing white suits piled atop him in a very Not Touya Akira-like fashion.

"I'd rather you didn't; these are new pants." He did not just hear that. He did not just _say_ that. Touya was supposed to understand such a pun even less than he was supposed to make one. On the other hand, Hikaru's anger had a chance to return, which made it a lot easier to think-- or at least, to react.

He swore, flipping back on top and making sure to slam at least twice as hard as Touya had. Touya continued not to look flustered, rather managing a solid if pained smirk. "Is this how you like it?" Touya taunted. "Didn't enjoy Ogata-san because you didn't have the chance to be the one in charge? If you'd asked, you might have been able to work something out."

By now, Hikaru's grip on Touya's arm was definitely going to leave marks. "Fuck you," he growled.

The prone teen shook his head proudly, sneer prominent on his face. "You've already had your chance, and I don't give seconds. I hope you enjoyed tonight, because I will never show myself to you again."

"I've already seen more of you than I'd ever wanted!" Hikaru cried, feeling a nerve in his cheek twitch. "You can continue to save yourself for your shota-con buddies, you morally defunct--"

_*splash*_

Then Hikaru came up sputtering like he'd been hit with the larger part of a bucket of ice water. Turning, he found that he had been. "Wha-- what the--"

A woman; small, bent, and possibly 5000 years old stood in the gate of the house behind them, clutching a bucket and wearing a nasty expression. "If you think I'm going to let some young hooligan force himself on some defenseless person outside of _my_ house--"

"Hey!" Hikaru yelped. "I wasn't forcing myself on anyone!"

The old lady looked him up and down, eyes narrowed in blatant disbelief, then cast a long look at Touya, who to his credit blushed slightly. "Hnn... what you do in private is your own business, but you and your little girlfriend here are gonna have to find someplace new to go."

"Hey!" both teens chorused. Scrambling to their feet, they approached her, protesting; Hikaru about his status as a sexual predator, Touya graphically willing to demonstrate he was not a woman. Ignoring them both, the woman threw the rest of the icy water in their faces, then stalked back into her house.

"Old bitch," they cursed simultaneously. They exchanged a glance, then quickly turned away, reddening a bit. Hikaru shifted from foot to foot awkwardly; Touya wrung out his shirt and hair; and eventually, they resumed walking, silent except for the wet splorch of their shoes.

At length, Hikaru spoke again. "We're going the wrong way," he said sulkily. "We came from this direction."

The dark-haired teen's demeanor didn't seem to be daunted in the least by the fact he looked like a wet dog. "Actually, you led us in the completely wrong direction from the start. The station's right up there." He pointed down the street, and Hikaru was unhappy to see a cheerful green and white sign winking in the distance. --Not because he wanted to spend any more time with Touya, hell no, but it meant that he had been wrong, and worse, that Touya was right. His scowl deepened as Touya continued. "I save you from the depths of Tokyo, and this is the thanks I get?" he said, voice extra-patronizing.

Thanks, eh? "Gee, Touya," Hikaru chirped, "tonight's been so exciting! My first time playing strip go, first time having to fend off the advances of intoxicated pedophiles, first time hearing of professional go sex rings, first time being an accused rapist... You sure know how to show a guy a great time!"

"I'll make sure to bring you flowers next time, when we do Kuwabara's full body massage," he deadpanned.

The shorter teen blinked for a moment before catching that this was Touya's idea of a joke. Not funny. "I'll leave the sodomy to you," he said in the same tone.

"I told you," Touya said seriously, "no sodomy... Usually I'll let them cop a feel but they can't get past second base unless I'm getting a really good match out of it."

"Oh, that's _so_ much better."

"Go to hell."

"I'm already there," Hikaru wailed, looking searchingly to the sky. "I don't know how you do it, Touya. Go around doing who knows what with who knows who, and never bat an eye. Me... hell, I don't think I can even pass a KFC for a long time."

"You don't like the Colonel?"

"I _used_ to like the Colonel until I was assaulted by some freak who dresses like him. Ogata's creative use of chicken didn't help any."

Touya gave him a long, curious look, face almost softening. "You're surprisingly innocent, Shindou."

"Correction, I used to be. We can't all be good man-whores like you, Touya."

Whatever nigh-kind expression that Touya had worn vanished, twisted into one of pure rage and foul, evil thoughts... much like the expression Hikaru had been wearing for the past few hours. He opened his mouth, and Hikaru prepared himself for a stream of profanities. It would be amusing, perhaps, to actually see Touya really curse. Instead, he closed it again, wrenching his lips into some perverse little smile. "This is where we part, Shindou. I'll be seeing you."

"Sooner than I'd like," he muttered, not quite under his breath.

"Yes... exactly." A pachinko sign flickered on the horizon, and for a moment Touya's eyes glowed red. Then he whirled, stalking off like someone who hadn't spent the better part of the evening under the dominating heel of Ogata Seiji, though possibly that was because he, unlike Hikaru, had not been brought against his will. Also, he'd won the game of strip go. Bastard.

"Well," Hikaru said, posturing and raising a fist to the retreating figure. He would not let _him_ have the last word. He shifted again and nodded some more. "All I know is... Mom's dramas had better've taped."

+ + +

Contrary to how such horrible days usually go, the rest of the evening -- and the next day, at that -- was incredibly normal. Mom's shows taped fine; she and Dad had even gone out on a date or something, there was just a note advising Hikaru to find his own dinner the next morning. (That was the downside to making your own money; your parents stopped buying you stuff.) So, nothing special; after waking up from a strange but promptly forgotten dream, he decided to call in sick to school and took himself a nice long, leisurely bath, followed that up with a nap, and played some video games.

Akari came over around five or six; he coughed a whole lot and did his best to convince her he'd gotten the flu (though flu season had come and gone some time ago) and he just needed some more rest. She brought him some dinner and orange juice and then thankfully left him alone. She really needed a boyfriend or a pet or something. Whatever. He finished his grueling day by watching his favorite Jump anime before going back to bed. Thus refreshed, he felt up to going back to the go institute tomorrow, and perhaps even school (though that would depend on whether or not Mom showed up in the morning, since school, as opposed to go, was _not_ fun.)

He could do this. Hikaru knew he had the ability to put horrible, scarring things behind him. Really, after dealing with Sai's disappearance, everything else was cake, right?

Some part of him just _knew_ that fate loved a challenge, and he'd just given it a good one. The rest of him was busy being asleep.

+ + +

Something was wrong.

Ogata Seiji woke half-undressed and smelling of stale alcohol and cigarettes. This wasn't necessarily a surprising or out of the ordinary occurrence, so that wasn't the problem.

It hurt his head to think, and while he was certain there had been other people in the room when he'd passed o-- er, fallen asleep, and while he was certain that they weren't here now, that also was fairly routine, and wasn't the problem either.

He had to piss like a racehorse. That at least was something he could easily deal with. Slowly staggering to his feet, Seiji took a few steps, wished he hadn't, then gritted his teeth and took a few more. After a few minutes he'd taken care of that most immediate need, and gotten started on brushing his teeth as well. The feeling that something was wrong had not left, however. No messages on the machine; the gas cock hadn't been left open; the front door wasn't locked, but that just meant that whoever had been here hadn't taken his keys, and that was a good thing. So then, what the hell was it?

Wobbling back to the bathroom, he rinsed his mouth and took a couple non-aspirin, then started a pot for coffee. He stretched, working on the crick in his neck, then scratched himself leisurely. Barely spilling any of the coffee, he took the pot and a mug and plopped down at the computer. And then Seiji realized exactly what was wrong.

"Oh, shit," he commented.

+ + +

Touya Akira knew he had wasted time that night; it would have been best if he had taken charge and led them straight home from the start. But... he'd wanted to toy with Shindou; he hadn't wanted to go home just yet; wanted to see what about him justified Ogata-san's interest in him. So far as Akira could tell, Shindou was an overrated and undermannered player, quite skilled at being annoying, but not much else. Even if he hadn't had any desires to actually play go, why should Ogata-san waste time with him at all? Surely there were others more skilled and just as easy to look at.

He realized in some contexts that last statement could be construed as a compliment, and Akira quickly banished the line of thought from his brain. Goodness, to compliment someone like _Shindou_? Such an... He broke into a coughing fit, hacking into the white mask he wore. This was why it didn't pay to waste time. Rolling around on the ground and being doused with water had given him a nasty cold, and he could only hope that Shindou was at least as sick. Idiot. And a self-righteous jerk, besides. Who was he to judge Akira's actions? It wasn't as if he was pure as the fallen snow or anything. Always dyeing his hair -- that couldn't _possibly_ comply with school rules -- and... talking to himself, that wasn't normal, and... and eating obscene amounts of ramen. And so on. Anyway, he'd _seen_ some of Shindou's friends... shady characters, the lot of them. Definitely not someone who should be high-handed about conduct. Not that Akira cared.

Besides, morals aside, honestly, if not being afraid to giggle and blush and force go games out of it when some old lechs copped a feel made you a man-whore (Akira personally considered it being a savvy businessman), then he guessed that was just what he was. Who cared, anyway? There was a higher purpose. Akira would find the Hand of God. And he would give anything he had to give, use everything he had to offer, to obtain it. And while he doubted his parents would approve, he was certain his father would understand. And that's why it didn't matter _what_ Shindou thought. Nope, not at all.

...Which still didn't mean he wanted Shindou blabbing it all over the world. His eyes narrowed. It was possible that Akira or his family could be put in a bad position if word of his... actions got out. Shindou was dangerous; it wouldn't do for a rival to have any leverage against him. Since he couldn't be controlled physically, Akira would have to resort to... other measures of insuring the teen's silence.

Akira gave a low chuckle, pleased that despite being slightly muffled and his throat feeling quite sore, it was just as ominous as he'd hoped for. "Very soon, Shindou..."

If others in the go salon overheard any of his mumblings, they probably weren't very surprised.

+ + +

Friday dawned warm and sunny, and Hikaru liked warm and sunny, so that was good. After school he made his way to the go institute, and despite his last time being there leading directly to the 'incident,' as he'd decided to call it, he liked the go institute, so it was good. ...He hoped.

He walked into the building and stopped, looking at the elevator. He ought to press the button... instead he took a few deep, cleansing breaths, psyching himself up. No worries, right? He thought of Sai smiling at him, and for some reason it calmed him down, and that too was good.

Hikaru almost jumped when the doors opened behind him, relieved to find it a friendly face. He was still leery of Touya or Ogata trying to take him by surprise. "Hey Waya."

"Oh, Shindou!" The brown-haired teen waved and sauntered over. As he got closer, Waya creased his eyebrows, affecting a look of concern. "What's wrong? Another long night?" Something in his expression made Hikaru feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"No. Just not feeling too hot. Haven't been sleeping well." Nightmares of being stalked by the Colonel, he didn't add. Sure, post-Sai trauma was cake, but not quite Tastycake, if you caught his drift.

"Well, that _is_ a problem," Waya replied, putting a hand on his shoulder and speaking in the entirely wrong tone of voice. He took a step forward and Hikaru took a step back and then they were noticeably alone, pressed against the wall in the secluded area by the currently unmanned gift shop and the public phone. His voice was low and growly and made a funny feeling in Hikaru's stomach. "Maybe it's an issue of what you're doing before bed. Maybe your choice of companions." Waya leaned forward, breath smelling lightly of curry.

Hikaru's voice was very small. "Why?"

The older boy's eyes narrowed, voice back to normal. "What do you mean, why? You're not saying you don't want this."

"Actually, I think I am." Hikaru gained steam. "Geez, Waya-- what are you doing?"

"I'm hitting on you, what do you _think_ I'm doing?" he said plainly. "And it definitely is more than you deserve. What the hell, how could you possibly turn _me_ down?"

Hikaru scoffed. "Now you sound like Ochi."

"Don't you dare compare me to that little freak," Waya warned, brandishing a fist. "Now, I'm definitely wondering where this instant pickiness came from. It's not like you weren't letting everyone else have a piece. I mean, Touya? I thought you were better than that," he said reproachfully.

Warning lights in Hikaru's brain began to flash. "What do you know about that?" he barked, face pulled tight.

He cocked an eyebrow. "I know your hands are skilled at more than just placing go stones. I know that for a scrawny runt, you look pretty good without a shirt. I know that you suck at strip go, among other things." Waya's tone changed, a little hurt. "I'm not trying to mess with you. I thought you liked that kind of thing, or it sure seemed that way when I saw it online. I thought we were friends, Shindou."

All the color drained from Hikaru's face. "You... saw it?"

"I was checking the net go homepage, and it was there. You never told me you were that flexible."

Now Hikaru looked positively ashen, or red, alternating. "On the net go page?"

"Yeah. Ogata has a permanent webcam there, didn't you know? Usually it's videos of old games you can watch for practice, but I think I learned more watching you for a few hours than the past year's worth of watching. I've been craving chicken for days."

All feeling left his legs. "Oh... my... god... damn." Hikaru felt it fair at this point in time to pass out.

  


tbc.

+ + +  
+ + +

+ I know, I know, I used the 'bleached' word. I am rightfully ashamed.  
+ JR - Japan Railways. The train to get you around Tokyo. Or anywhere in Japan, actually. (except for my stationless town... dammit)  
+ Stamina ramen = ramen with a raw egg. Might also have butter. I wouldn't choose it, but...  
+ Japanese people wander around while brushing their teeth. I think it's kinda nasty, but maybe it's just because when I walk around brushing my teeth, I spill all over myself.  
+ Japanese people _also_ wear surgical masks when they have a cold. It's supposed to keep you from infecting others, but I don't see how cloth is keeping germs from coming to me. All I can see that it does is make you have to keep breathing in your own nasty germy spit all day, but whatever works.

+ + +  
next:

Waya makes moves. Touya makes plans. Only one of them is even semi-successful. And Hikaru finds that it always gets worse before it gets better... 


End file.
